


Tainted Recollection: A CSI: Miami Omake

by lyrisey



Category: CSI: Miami, Hannibal (TV), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Murder, Omake, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrisey/pseuds/lyrisey
Summary: Lisa looks at a body.
Kudos: 2





	Tainted Recollection: A CSI: Miami Omake

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Mirrors in her Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248825) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Crossposted from the SpaceBattles thread for archival purposes.

_Detonation._

And for a moment, clarity; information and inference cohering into a brilliant, impossible jewel in my mind's eye. Everything _fits_ ; I open my eyes and I can see the edges on everything around me, faceted and fit together with such rigor that I understand once again why watches used to be filled with jewels.

It doesn't last; it never does, that Accord's-wet-dream feeling of _crispness_ and precision slipping away and leaving everything homogeneous and muddled, like watercolors left out in the rain.

A muscle in my cheek starts to twitch, and I try to cover it with a lopsided smile as I stare at the five bodies laid out for my perusal.

 _A corpus_ , a half-forgotten Word of the Day calendar whispers in my hindbrain.

The words are thick on my lips. "You're not looking for one killer, Director."

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her look up from her phone.

"Two killers?"

I gesture in the general direction of the corpses in front of us.

"These five? Tied down... and the bamboo grew _through_ them." The facade of the world _cracks_ ever-so-slightly, and in the edges I can see tightly-wound knots of woody brown-and-white burrowing through soil, first dark and moist then red and wet, diverting around foam-marrowed bone in the same way it would for the bones of another earth-

"Old technique," I make myself say. "Goes back to World War II, at least."

We're both looking at the bodies now, but I'm the only one who sees the leaves spiraling open in the light from the fluorescents overhead, new-growth-green speckled with red that darkens to brown in rapid-motion.

"And Browbeat?"

"The bamboo was pre-cut." It's easier when I can't see his body, when the edges aren't there to come together. "Forced down through his chest, rather than up from the bottom."

 _Pinned like a butterfly_ is something I don't say as I get out my sunglasses.

"So yeah, two killers. These five? Bamboo. Your Ward?"

I put my sunglasses on.

" _Sham-_ boo."

My eyes close to blissful dark, but I can see the horrified look on her face in my mind's eye.

"Yeaaaaaaaaaah. I get that a lot."


End file.
